


15 Days of Indulgence

by FortinbrasFTW



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Multi, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, just a bit, some vampire vibes, tipsy sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortinbrasFTW/pseuds/FortinbrasFTW
Summary: Decided to write some smut-responses for the 15 days of FATT Prompts - enjoy!Note: I have a VERY busy next few weeks, so this probably won't get done in 15 Days, but I would love to chip away at it and fill it all eventually if I can.





	15 Days of Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 - Dance // It's High Sun Day and Claret is looking for an indulgence, aka Claret Holiday's Big Boy Season.

The City of First Light sizzled under the low-hung glow of High Sun Day. The streets were crowded with bustling laughter and merry figures clad in deeply dyed silks, and well worn canvas, with flashing pins in bound up hair, or leather boots and delicate sandals, all rushing over cobblestones, spinning against worn wooden floors, catching themselves on cool-marble thresholds.

It was a hot day, but as the sun finally lowered along the horizon Marielda stole a breeze from the sea and tugged it playfully into the city streets. Heavy smells of salted fish, and fresh sweet bread, and marzipan chocolate suns, and apple wine, all of which had sat on the still air all day long now caught in the wind and slipped up and down the streets between laughter, and drunken song.

Sige Coleburn leaned back against the warm stone wall outside of the Southern Bucket Tavern. The wooden bench under him had become more comfortable with each ale, and now he was perfectly happy to simply take in the scene of the holiday. There were people dancing in the street outside of the tavern. It was a holiday, so hell that's what people did on holidays, wasn't it? They danced and drank and ate too much and woke up the next day worse for ware. He'd strongly considered not coming out at all. He'd finally setup a proper workshop for the boat and today was just as good a day as any to get it up on stands and get to work. But the heat had pooled into Marielda early and the idea of being cramped up in a sweaty shed hadn't sounded so good. So he'd walked around instead, taking in the holiday, and now, as the sun was finally skirting the horizon, bleeding red and orange down the long streets, he'd found himself at the Southern Bucket watching folks dance.

The smell of the honeysuckle and hydrangea climbing up the walls of the tavern and moved about the square on the eddies of the breeze. The music was good; it was Sige's kind of sound, crisp and unpretentious, the type of thing you could tap your foot too. There was an orc with a drum and an elf on the mandolin and a young kid with a shock of white-blond hair laughing as he tapped a knuckle of bells on his knee. There wasn't much food, but this late in the day the city as a whole had moved past that onto better things. The beer in his hand was just right, golden with a bit of orange which made it go down probable a bit too easy. He wasn't drunk... he didn't think he was drunk. He'd been sitting down for awhile so it was hard to tell, for all he knew he'd stand up for a refill and fall right on his face.

But it was nice, sitting there in the smell of flowers, watching the dancing. He wasn't real good at moving like that, so it was easy to appreciate.

A cool breeze slipped past, and someone slid onto the bench next to him. He glanced over.

The woman wasn't looking at him. She was watching the dancing too. She leaned back against the stone-wall of the tavern, crossing one well-fitting uniformed leg over the other. Her hair was a deep cabernet, thick and flowing on the heat of the day. She was dressed in a military style, but not one that he could put an exact name too, and while the uniform was sharp, her posture and the way she wore it, gave off an unbuttoned attitude. It was a hot day for a uniform, and hers had been adjusted accordingly. Her crisp jacket was open, white blouse underneath opened as well down her clavicle. Her hair was up in a loose bun that looked messier than usual for someone with such precise posture. She turned clever eyes towards him and he looked away instantly. He hadn't realized he'd been staring so long.

He felt her smile as she turned her eyes back to the dance, lifting a drink to her lips. "Enjoying your Sun Day?"

He glanced back at her quickly before returning to the dancers. "Yeah, sure. Little hot."

She shrugged. "It's not so bad."

And funnily enough it wasn't. He'd felt sweat prickling against his forehead most of the night, but now, he didn't know if it was the breeze, or the fact that the sun was finally going down but he felt cooler, and was grateful for it.

"You don't dance?" she asked.

Sige laughed roughly. "Uh, no. Not so much."

"Why not?"

"Ah well," he arched his back. "People like me, we're built for other kinds of things."

She smiled lazily. "Such as?"

He felt himself smile back at her, almost rakishly. Ridiculous. Hell, maybe he was a bit drunk. But he couldn't help it. Her eyes were so bright despite their dark coloring, and the change in temperature felt so fresh, and she, well she looked pretty damn good.

"Coopering," he answered cheekily.

For a moment he thought she would laugh, but she managed to keep it trapped behind her full-lipped smile. "You're a Cooper?"

"Not professionally. More of a hobby."

"Of course, just as typical amateur Cooper."

"Oh yeah, that's me. Real hobbyist."

There was something about the way she smiled at him that he couldn't look away from, those eyes snatched around his: traps lurking in the dark.

She lifted her glass to her lips once more, sipping, not taking her eyes from him, but not her gaze was traveling now, lazy, and utterly unselfconscious, down his neck, across his shoulders, lower still. She put her glass down next to his mug of beer and let her hand travel towards him.

For a moment he thought she was going to take his hand, and he rolled it over, palm up, to receive it, but her lips quirked to one side and she didn't take his hand. Cool fingertips slid against his wrist, snaking around the side of his forearm. She squeezed the weight of his arm experimentally, and he thought he saw her exceptionally white teeth catch her full lip for just a moment.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He felt rather dazed, and his mouth was a going a bit dry making his voice grumble. "It's Sige."

"Sige." She repeated it, curiously. She slipped her hand away from his arm and dragged her knuckles over the line of his thigh and his cock jumped despite himself.

She tilted her head to one side, holding his gaze captive once more in her own. "Do you want to dance with me, Sige?"

He felt his heart catch hungrily, but he swallowed, trying to ignore the way her knuckles were tracing the taut pinstripes of his trousers higher and higher.

He nodded towards the crowd. "Out there?"

She grinned, and gods her teeth were white. It made her mouth look so much more red.

"No. Not out there."

  
Sige's back hit the stonewall of the alley harder than he would have expected. He couldn't help laughing, pulling her close again, one hand around her small cool wrist, the other encompassing her sturdy hip.

"You're pretty strong," he smiled, slurring just a little, and hell he was a bit drunk, wasn't he?

"Mmm," she hummed, both hands tracing the line of his chest. They slid down, over the weight of his stomach and lower, in a way that made his shiver, finally finding the bones of his hips and using that grip to tug herself forward. She slide his thigh between her legs neatly. "It's a shame. You're pretty small for a Cooper." She snapped his suspenders against the meat of his chest.

Sige laughed and reached out, sliding a hand under her jacket along the silken fabric of the blouse at her waist. He still felt hesitant, unsure of how much he was allowed to lead, but she leaned into the size of his hand eagerly and he felt his instincts take over. He spread his palm wide, easing it up the line of her ribs to drag a thumb under her breast. She moved closer, pressing his leg even tighter between hers. He let his other hand joins the first, sliding around her hip, gripping firmly but steadily to her ass under the close fit of those military pants.

She hummed, leaning into him, and he guided her, rolling her hips against the weight of his thigh. Her lush lips parted and he let his other palm slide to the weight of her breast, pushing against the silken fabric, watching entranced as the shape of her rose and rolled. Her skin was cool, but against the heat of the day it was intoxicating. He lifted his thigh the press more firmly into the growing heat between her legs and she gasped, nipples peaking under the loose fabric of her blouse. Sige dragged an obliging thumb under the shape of one and she grinned, arcing her long throat back. He couldn't help moving his hand from her breast to the back of her neck, pulling her close, kissing her where her ear met her jaw, then the side of her neck, then the slope where it dipped into her shoulder.

Her hands landed firmly on him, tightening in a demanding way that almost hurt. He let his mouth drag lazily, both hands moving to her breasts, lifting her up as his teeth caught against her clavicle, biting just a little into the meat of her shoulder.

She let out a sound caught between a laugh and a gasp and suddenly there was a greedy hand pressing against his cock. Sige let out a huff of surprise, falling back against the wall. Her eyes snapped back to his, deep red hair falling messily into her face. She gripped him through his trousers, grinding the weight of her palm back against the hard heat.

Sige swore, thudding his head back against the stoney wall as his cock pulsed eagerly into her touch. His hand scrambled against her, finding leverage against her ass and pulling her tight to his thigh once more. She stroked her hand firmly against him and he arced his back against the sensation. He tried to catch her eye but she wasn't look at him. She was watching the way his chest rose and fell as his breathe came heavy, the way the hand that wasn't holding her snatched and scrambled for purchase against the stone wall behind them, the way his pulse pounded within his neck.

He groaned needy, and probably a bit too loud, and suddenly she stepped back.

He sucked in a breath in surprise, opening wide eyes to look for her. She was standing just a few feet back from him, eyes still drinking in the sight of his body. He moved towards her but she shook her head. "No. Stay."

He did. The heat was slinking back in around him now that she was gone. Down the alley he could still hear the sounds of the music and the laughter. The smell of hanging flowers was still heavy in the approaching dark. And it was darker, especially in the close alley. He could see her well enough, but she was wreathed in a shadow that made her eyes bright, her teeth shine.

She leaned back against the opposite wall of the alley, only a few feet away, but still it felt impossibly far. His hands ached to feel the cool smoothness of her skin, the delicious weight of her curves and surprising sharpness of her hips.

She smiled at him, and god his desperation to touch her again must have been all too obvious. She held his eye and slid a hand between her own legs.

Sige groaned. His cock felt impossibly tight against the restrictions of his trousers.

She grinned, catching her full lower lip in her teeth once more. Her other hand slid lazily up her stomach, reaching the button at her clavicle and opening it and the one below. She slid a hand inside, easing the silken fabric away from her lush breasts to tease at a nipple.

"Shit," Sige swore, unable to keep his eyes from traveling hungrily to where her short-cut nails played at the ripe hill of her breast, to where her other hand started working her belt open, popping aside the buttons on the tall waist of the military trousers.

She slid her hand inside her pants and her eyes rolled for a moment as her mouth fell open in pleased discovery.

Sige couldn't help it, his hand tugged open his belt, fingers sliding inside and gripping at the needy weight of his own cock.

She leaned over slightly, giving her arm more length to work between her legs. Her mouth fell open into a pant, looking so deliciously soft, breasts rising and falling with her heavy breath. She let out a frustrated sound and suddenly spun, planting a forearm against the stone wall, leaning her forehead against it, and working herself harder, in a way that made her ass rock in rhythm back towards him.

"Come on," she gasped to him, voice rough between breathes.

Sige surged off the wall so hard he's lucky he didn't fall on his drunken ass. His large hands caught on her hips, encompassing them fully and she growled, pressing back into the weight of his cock and bracing her forearms against the wall.

His hand scrambled, probably too roughly down the front of her trousers. The sudden heat was wet against his hand and shockingly and greedy in a way that switched parts of his brain right off. He slid two fingers into her and she groaned gratefully, mouth falling open as he started to move, grinding the pad of his palm against her clit as he did.

She let out a cry and without thinking he found his other hand moving to her mouth, to the full bitten weight of her lips. She welcomed the touch, sucking at one large finger greedily until his thrusts forced her mouth open into a cry or a bite.

She suddenly jerked her hips back into his with surprising force. "I said come on."

And gods, he wasn't one to reject orders like that. He urged her pants down her thighs messily, too eagerly, sliding his cock against the weight of her ass, and gods she was so wet and there was something so impossibly good about how cool her skin felt on the surface and how hot it was underneath.

She bit at his finger hard, meaningfully. He swore once and pushed into her.

Her breath punched from her lungs with a gasp. He let his head fall against her jacketed shoulder, taking a moment, just one moment to feel the tight, sleek, heat before sliding back and slamming in once again.

She cried out, then let out a short pleased laugh of surprise. He grinned and did it again, and again. She groaned against his fingers, thighs going slick between them as he moved. He pulled back slowly before pressing deep again and this time she let out a frustrated groan, closing her fist and pounding it once, twice, against the wall in front of her. He took her meaning.

His hand slid from her mouth to her shoulder for purchase, big enough to wrap around the full width and curl a few fingers around her neck as he started to thrust into her in earnest. He moved quick and hard and she rolled into it fully, luxuriating in the way his strength moved her body, in the way her own folded back around it. His free hand snapped to her hip, thumb against her hipbone, fingers eagerly stroking at her clit and suddenly she cried out tightening furiously as, wetness unfurling around him and he was lost. He dove into her over and over as she pushed back at him with impossibly strength. He swore once, hands clutching frantically at her hips and then he was gone, coming all at once and trying to keep the weight of his body from crushing her against the wall.

They stayed like that for a moment, breath mingling with the smell of the flowers and the muffled sounds of the night.

He pulled back first, trying to gather himself together. He felt spent, utterly and truly spent. It wasn't exactly normal. He was always tired after sex but this was different. He felt like he needed to climb into bed and not move for a week. She rolled her shoulder with a pleased sound, leaning back against the wall as she redid her buttons and tucked her shirt lazily into her trousers.

He looked at her and opened his mouth, because he ought to say something. But she stopped him. She stepped closer, and put one open kiss to his lips.

She tasted like lemon, and almonds... must have been the drink she had before. And something else, something metallic. She was warm now, warmer than she had been.

She smiled. "Thank you for the dance, Sige." And with that she was gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> These are unbetaed because I just barely wrote it in time, so please send along any typos in the comments. Thanks!


End file.
